


Love Letter

by miss_tatiana



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Pining, basically keg is Super In Love with beau and is hurting about it, character study ish, set after keg's departure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 07:36:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16888338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_tatiana/pseuds/miss_tatiana
Summary: Keg is a sensible woman. She ties everything up and finishes it before she leaves and moves on to another place. She never leaves loose ends. That is, until Beauregard.





	Love Letter

**Author's Note:**

> yes i miss keg yes she was in love with beau yes they were perfect for each other send tweet

Keg was a sensible woman. She knew how to take care of herself. She knew how to read a map, and she knew the land well enough that she often didn’t need one. She might have gone a little off the rails with the Shepherds, but she straightened herself out and turned on them like she had to. She tied everything up and finished it before she left and moved on to another place. She even killed some of the Shepherds to avoid leaving ties behind. She never left loose ends. That is, until Beauregard. 

Until Beauregard, she’d never fallen in love with a one night stand while completely sober. Until Beauregard, she’d never even been tempted to write a love letter - she tried to avoid both writing and love whenever possible. 

She knew she had it bad when she wasn’t hammered and was still openly flirting with Beau. She tried to be closed off and work that hardened fighter persona, and it usually worked. Usually. Beau was just so easy to talk to and to laugh with and to look at and to sweat over. Not to mention Beau could break anyone who rose up against her, and that was a lot to handle. 

So she had a sort of a crush. Even though she was too old for that shit. Crushes. Still. So what. She’d have that one night with Beau - gods, she could still hear Beau’s voice, still feel her heart stop at Beau’s invitation - and then she’d leave, like she always did. No loose ends. But for some godforsaken reason, she’d decided she had to write a letter. 

Not that she could write, by anyone’s standards. She struggled through writing just to get her thoughts down, not usually for anyone else. But in the short time she’d known them, Beau and her weird bunch of friends had made her want to write for someone else. So she fought through spelling errors and sounded out words she didn’t know. She had wanted it just to be a goodbye letter, an apology for sneaking out. Then she actually started writing it, and she couldn’t stop writing things that definitely weren’t goodbyes, and she couldn’t stop thinking things she could never and would never put on paper. 

_ Dear Bo, _

I know that’s not how to spell your name. That’s how it sounds, and that’s good enough for me, because I don’t know any other letters that make an ‘o’ sound. Your name reminds me of Dwarven names. Short. Hard. In that way, you sort of remind me of home. In all the other ways, you’re much, much better than home. If you’d been at home, I might have actually stayed there. Not that I’m saying I’d stay with you if- never mind. 

_ Yor eyes r beutiful- _

I could spend all day looking into your eyes. Like, literally all day, not an overstatement. I’ve never seen the ocean, but I figure the creek back home is close enough, and I know that. I think you have ocean eyes. But I’m afraid of going to the ocean now because I know it won’t live up to your eyes. I think blue is my favorite color now, actually. And I think I like your week old makeup too much.

_ When you smile. _

When you smile I think I die. And I’ve come close to death many times before, sometimes fighting with the Shepherds and sometimes after an especially crazy bender, but never as close as when you smile. It’s like you’re the sun, and everyone else is just lucky enough to get some of your warmth. I said you have my favorite eyes, but you also have my favorite smile. Everything about you is my favorite. You’re my favorite. 

_ I lov- _

What the fuck am I saying, that I love you? I barely know you, and we had one night together, and I’ve never ever been in love with anyone before. But this is a love letter, right? And I can’t stop thinking about you, and I wish you’d leave your wizard and your goblin and come travel with me instead, or better yet that you’d let me stay and travel with you. And I love your eyes, and your smile, and the way you kill things. Maybe I just love you. Which is stupid, because I’m basically already gone. Yeah, this whole thing is just fucking stupid. 

_ Thanks.  _

_ -Keg _

She’d hoped the letter - and the thoughts that filled her head as she tried to write it - would be gone after she left it. And left them, Beau and her little group. After it was all behind her, she’d be fine.

But she had left, and she was travelling alone again now, and she wasn’t fine. She’d left one glaring loose end named Beau and she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She was in love. She’d thought about that a lot since leaving, and could confirm it. It was safe to realize, now that Beau was gone and she couldn’t do anything about it. But it hurt. It hurt her like losing a fight did. She’d go to sleep wanting to see Beau again and wake up wanting to see Beau again. Beau took up more than half her mind. 

And if Beau could make her leave a place without having tied everything up - which she never did - there was really no limit to what she’d do for that woman. 

So Keg drifted from place to place, heart stopping whenever she saw someone with blue - but never quite as blue - eyes, having to do double takes on anyone with an undercut. She was in love with a wayfarer she’d never see again and she’d accepted it, but that didn’t stop her from almost choking when anything reminded her of Beau. She thought about the letter, and what she could have written instead of what she had, and that maybe if she’d written the right things, Beau would have come and found her. Maybe, she hoped, Beau still might. And Keg could wait. She’d be more than happy to wait, however long it took. 

Beau was her one loose end- a loose end that she was sure she never wanted to tie up. 

**Author's Note:**

> @ matt and ashly............ PLEASE bring keg back....


End file.
